Post slime-food, the time finally arrives for the actual “signing.” Stormy calmly explains that she’ll just tell everyone that she’s so popular that she’s already completely out of pictures. She accomplishes this joke with a rare ability to sound accepting and playful, and not in the least bitchy or bitter — a tough line for even seasoned performers. I’m impressed. As they sit down, Devinn decides to draw a picture for Stormy to at least sit behind. Julia leans over and adds the editorial about Stormy’s state of mind. Consequently, as people lined up to get the Wicked autographs, they observe this layout:

I’d basically made up my mind that I like this girl, but I feel obligated to share one final anecdote that cinched it for me. The Wicked entourage stood in the back of the room as Stormy did her bit as “Ring Girl” during one fight. After she returned to the holding area with the rest of us I approached her. “I don’t mean to be impolite,” I sheepishly begin, “but from up here it looked as though your breasts might have been surgically enhanced.”

Stormy turns to face me and throws an arm over my shoulder. She cocks her head and swivels her hips into an almost flirtatious stance. Then she gives me that same knowing smile that all talented women can do. You know, the one that has been turning men to mush for hundreds of years. “I’ll tell you what I always say when guys ask me, ‘Are those real?’” she says. “Well Honey, you ain’t imagining them.”

I’ve represented a lot of impressive women over the years, but I haven’t represented all of the impressive women that our business has seen. Stormy might turn out to be another of the ones I never got the opportunity to help. There are a lot of variables that determine whether or not a woman makes a “Big Name” in this business, but Stormy’s at least got the raw materials. She’s quick. She’s witty. She’s got some life behind her, and most importantly, she’s self-deprecating. The secret to success, in my admittedly rarely humble opinion, resides in the ability to not take yourself too seriously. Famous people need a qualification to that rule: Never believe your own press — good or bad. I think Stormy’s got a shot. We’ll let you know how her aim evolves.

I’ve made a couple feeble offers to answer questions if she has any, and I’ve explained that helping my friend’s company is something I would freely do. I don’t think I’ve had much of an effect, however, as since we’ve known each other only about 40 contiguous minutes or so, Stormy’s yet to fully understand my sincerity and profound philanthropy toward female talent in this business. She’s probably “heard” about me too, and doesn’t trust anything I say. Who can blame her? I’m “The Evil Manager” that just takes from his clients with no regard for them as people. Don’t you hate that? See? I don’t believe my press either … and I’m not even famous.

OK, you can FINALLY see the pictures. There are actually 150 more of them. They comprise a set we’ve had floating around the office for some time, but we didn’t know what to do with. Just showing of miscellaneous gynecology will never be our style. If I see Stormy, I’ll ask her about this shoot, and let you know what she says …